


"Were you ever going to tell me?"

by beefcakemish



Series: Misc. Drabbles [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alastair (mentioned) - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 23:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beefcakemish/pseuds/beefcakemish
Summary: Dean struggles with some parts of his and Cas' new relationship.





	"Were you ever going to tell me?"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bend_me_shape_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bend_me_shape_me/gifts).

> what even are summaries and tags. i sure as hell don't know.

It’s new; this sleeping in the same bed thing they’ve been doing. It’s new, and the first time Dean woke up next to Cas he flinched so hard he nearly fell off of the bed. He’s started getting used to it now. At least three times a week, he wakes up next to Cas, the distance between them dwindling with each sunrise.

Dean is woken by a warm weight on his chest. His eyes open wide, darting from side to side while his vision adjusts to accommodate the darkness of the room. Looking down he sees the unruly mess of Cas’ hair. Cas must have shifted onto him in the few hours they’ve been asleep. Dean can feel now, how most of Cas’ chest is on his own, one of his legs has wormed its’ way between his own. Suddenly the pressure of Cas on him is too much.

It’s overwhelming. He feels trapped.

His breathing picks up, and as he tries to avoid what feels like a panic attack, he untangles himself from Cas’ warmth and escapes to the bathroom.

He sinks to the floor, leaning against the door, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and tells himself to calm down. There’s nothing wrong with how Cas was touching him. Hell, though he would never admit it, Dean considers himself a ‘cuddler’. He briefly thinks maybe it’s because Cas is a man, but Dean is more comfortable with Cas than anyone he’s ever been with, so that can’t be the issue.

Dean allows himself another minute or two on the floor before standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are wet, eyes red, rimmed with tears he didn’t know he was crying. A knock at the door startles him, and he nearly trips over himself backing away from the sound.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Shit. Of course he woke Cas up. He wipes the moisture from his face with the nearest towel, and opens the door, unsurprised to see the concern in Cas’ eyes.

“Uh, yeah, Cas. I’m fine. Just had to take a quick leak.”

“You’ve been in there for twelve minutes, Dean. I was concerned.”

As he edges past, careful to make as little contact as possible, Cas stops him with a hand on his shoulder, the same shoulder that used to bear Cas’ handprint. Dean shrugs free of the grip, and continues back to the bed. He lays on his side, as close to the edge as he can get, back turned to the open space of the bed. Cas sighs, and moments later, Dean feels the dip of the bed behind him, muscles tense, dreading the suffocating touch of the other man.

He wants to be close to Cas, craves the feel of him, and if he’s being honest with himself, he has for years. What the hell is wrong with him all of the sudden?

A week passes by with the same routine; cold sweats, panic attacks, pushing Cas away at every turn. Dean’s growing more and more irritable by the minute, and Cas is still patient as ever, the perfect bastard. The next night as they’re getting ready for bed, Cas sits in the armchair near the bed, instead of pulling back the covers and lying down, and really, Dean can’t blame him.

“Cas, will you please come to bed?” He hates the irritated tone his voice takes. Cas has done nothing wrong. He doesn’t deserve the burden of Dean’s fucked up and constantly conflicting emotions.

“You haven’t been sleeping well, Dean. I think it best that I remain here until you’ve fallen asleep.”

“Okay.” Dean mumbles into his pillow, though it’s the last thing he wants right now. He sighs, readying himself for the loneliness and intrusive thoughts to sink in as he tries to fall asleep.

When he wakes up in the early hours of the morning, Cas is nowhere to be found, likely sleeping comfortably in his own room, and the sudden ache in Dean’s chest takes the air from his lungs. It’s not until three days later, during their new nightly routine of Cas reading in the armchair until Dean’s feigned sleep well enough for Cas to feel comfortable leaving, that Dean speaks up.

Cas closes his book, lays it on the end table next to the bed, then leans over Dean to place a kiss to his head. He pauses, and Dean can feel Cas’ eyes on him, just observing in that quiet way he does. Fingertips lightly brush the pieces of hair back from his forehead. When Cas turns away from the bed and moves to leave the room, Dean grabs his hand, stopping the movement.

“Please, stay.”

It comes out as no more than a whisper, but it carries enough that Cas hears him and sits back in the chair, keeping Dean’s hand held in his. The silence settles like a low-hanging cloud, threatening to pour down on them.

“I know –“ Dean starts, unsure where the thought was even going. He’s not good at talking, especially talking about his feelings, but Cas deserves an answer. Even if it’s not an answer Dean wants to give him. Of course Cas seems to understand before Dean can manage to get the words out. He’s always understood.

“It’s just a lot, ya know?”

Cas nods in understanding, but stays silent, and Dean is thankful he doesn’t push the conversation.

“There’ve been whole years where I was just… alone. After Sam split and Dad got pissed, he just kinda left. Took off on hunts without telling me when he’d be back, which wasn’t really surprising because he did it all the time when we were kids, but at least Sam had been there.”

Dean moves to sit up, dropping Cas’ hand in the process. He stays hunched over at the side of the bed, unable to look Cas in the eye.

“It wasn’t so bad being on my own; didn’t have to deal with Dad’s shit anymore, didn’t have to constantly worry about Sammy. But, man, it was lonely as hell. Things got better after a while, with Sam back, and us on the road together.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Then Alastair, and the rack. Nothing was the same after that. It couldn’t ever be the same.”

**_“Were you ever going to tell me?”_** Cas asks quietly, voice laced with concern. There’s no demand, no guilt he’s trying to lay on Dean for keeping it locked away.

“Nah, you know I don’t like to talk about this crap. But, you deserve to know, Cas, to know that this ain’t gonna be easy with me. I don’t expect you to deal with all of this. I mean, if you want out –“

Cas moves forward onto his knees, grabbing one of Dean’s hands in his. The other cupping his chin, lifting his eyes from the floor.

“Never, Dean.” Cas states adamantly. “There will never come a time that I ‘want out’.”

Dean nods, his chin dropping back toward the floor to hide the few tears he couldn’t hold back. Cas brings his head to rest against Dean’s with a gentle hand at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, Cas, and that kinda scares me.”

“It’s okay to be scared, Dean. I’ve been scared since the moment I saw you, saw how brightly you shone. I knew that you would change my life. But, I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. We can work through the rest together.”

The slightest move of Dean’s head brushes their lips together, and he presses forward into the comfort Cas is so generously offering. Cas stands as they separate, causing panic to well in Dean’s chest for a different reason.

“Stay? Please?” Dean asks, reluctant to go another night without Cas beside him.

Cas moves to the other side of the bed, pulls back the blanket and crawls in next to Dean, mindful to leave several inches of space between them. He reaches a hand across the space, and smiles when Dean returns the gesture, intertwining their fingers.


End file.
